


To Our Fallen Brothers to Thee We Cry!

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-31
Updated: 2015-01-31
Packaged: 2018-03-09 21:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3264551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I’m not that big an Aramis lover but thought what would happen if d’Art got caught in the crossfire of a mission gone slightly askew.</p><p>++++</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Our Fallen Brothers to Thee We Cry!

Aramis woke up from a most disturbing nightmare. He hadn’t had one like it for quite awhile. Actually ever since d’Artagnan had arrived in their midst. The boy brought sunshine and laughter with him wherever he went. It was hard to be sad when around the lad. His shy smile when you complimented the youngster on the smallest thing made one feel good inside. D’Artagnan was always ready to offer help first. Oui, his life had lightened considerably since he had gained a little brother now.

Still the nightmare concerned him on so many levels. Dreaming of the death and destruction of so many brothers left him shaky as he dragged himself out of bed. Savoy was never far from his mind at the best of times, but the company of his close brothers usually kept those memories at bay, at least for awhile.

It was strange though to have that particular nightmare the day before he and the others were to go outside of Paris toward Vaneves where a band of malandrins had been reported. These brigands had been robbing the innocent citizens who lived in the area. Captain Treville had decided that he would send at least eighteen Musketeers to Vaneves to take care of business. They would split up into groups and hopefully roust the bandits out of their hiding spots to bring them to justice.

After seeing to his morning ablutions, Aramis was ready to face the world again, or just a tiny part of it for now. His friends would be eating breakfast out in the courtyard and he couldn’t wait to join them.

++++

“Mornin’,” Porthos greeted his friend while he waited for Aramis to sit down beside him. “Spend the night on your own?”

“Or in the arms of a lovely maiden perhaps?” d’Artagnan teased the older romantic.

“As long as he’s here I do not care where he was,” Athos announced flatly, though his blue eyes twinkled.

“There you have it, my freres,” Aramis laughed gayly. “I am here, which should be enough for all of you.”

D’Artagnan and Porthos exchanged wry looks and continued eating.

“I say he spent the night with one of his many female admirers,” Porthos insisted.

“Non,” d’Artagnan disagreed. “Aramis was on his own last night when we all parted for our respective homes.”

“Are we all quite done speculating on Aramis’s amorous conquests, or lack thereof?” Athos looked at each man in exasperation. He could think upon better topics to start the morning on.

“Gents,” Treville greeted as he came upon the foursome. "I want you all to be extremely cautious as you head out. I know you’re well versed in watching each other’s backs, but most of the reports I've heard tell me this is a particularly large group of bandits you're going to be dealing with and quite ruthless into the bargain.”

“We can handle ourselves just fine.” Porthos then grabbed an unsuspecting d’Artagnan easily about the waist to swing him up over his shoulder playfully, while the pup protested at being manhandled in such an undignified manner. 

“I am not a puppy!” d’Artagnan howled, hearing the laughter of his brothers and captain in the background. “I demand you put me down this instant, Porthos!”

Watching the two of them lightened the moment for the rest of the men. For it would soon turn very serious as they bid Treville adieu.

++++

*Vaneves*

Being the one in charge, Athos broke the Musketeer contingent into two squads of four and two of five. He made sure the men understood that these bandits were wanted dead or alive.

Sitting on his horse, Aramis shivered. The air was turning slightly chilly now that it was nearing the end of October. No wonder memories of Savoy were plaguing him lately. Lost in his own thoughts, it took him several seconds to realize that d’Artagnan had been saying something to him. Shaking his head to clear it, Aramis gave the lad a genuine smile. “Apologies, d’Artagnan. My mind was elsewhere.”

“I was saying that Athos and Porthos are going to take the upper path leading into that outcropping of trees,” d’Artagnan pointed to the place he meant. “We’re to go in the opposite direction over there.” Again d’Artagnan indicated the area Athos had ordered checked out. He wondered where Aramis had gone too for the short time he had tried to gain his friend’s attention. With the mission uppermost on his mind, d’Artagnan figured he could wait to ask Aramis later.

Surprised at d’Artagnan’s announcement, Aramis sat up straighter in his saddle. Pushing his hat further back upon his head, Aramis gripped his reigns tightly. “I thought we were to stay in a group, not separate?”

“They’ll be close by,” d’Artagnan replied. “Athos wanted us to cover as much ground as possible,” he grinned. “No worries.”

“Hmmpf!” Aramis snorted. “No worries,” he muttered under his breath. "Easy for you to say.”

Glancing oddly at Aramis, d’Artagnan began to worry that perhaps he should mention something to Athos about their friend’s behavior. After all, Athos knew the man much longer and may understand why Aramis was acting strangely.

When d’Artagnan and Aramis began their search it wasn’t long after when sounds of weapons discharging pierced the air. Birds flew out of the trees, scared from the sudden noise as were several wild animals that charged past the men’s horses. The disturbance caused Belle and Zad to nearly rear up on their hind legs. Calming their beasts, Aramis and d’Artagnan turned their mounts around and headed in the general direction of the skirmish.

Joining their brothers-in-arms, Aramis was nearly devastated at the sight that greeted him. He wondered if his nightmare was a premonition for today’s events. For littering the cold ground lay numerous bodies of his comrades. Aramis didn’t know if they were just badly wounded or dead. He sat frozen on Belle, his mind going back to Savoy.

Risking a quick glance at Aramis, d’Artagnan tried to shake the man from wherever his mind had taken him. For it was clear to d’Artagnan that his friend was not in the here and now. “ARAMIS! ATTEND!” d’Artagnan screamed as he tore off to help his brothers. Dearly praying that Athos and Porthos were not among the casualties this day.

++++

A bloody forty five minutes later found Athos trying to separate the bodies of his men from the bandits. Porthos was by his side as they first checked for their wounded or dead brothers.

“Where’s d’Art and Aramis?” Porthos looked around anxiously not seeing either man.

“Mon dieu!” Athos slapped his forehead in alarm. “Why didn’t I think first and kept them with us?” Seeing Porthos looking back at him in confusion, Athos sighed. “Savoy. This is sure to bring it up again.”

“We’ve got ta find Aramis right fast!” Porthos was scared for his usually happy go lucky brother. This would have awakened the past and all that they had endeavored to get Aramis to forget.

“ARAMIS!” Athos yelled out. “D’ARTAGNAN!”

“Athos!” Porthos shouted. “Over here. Quick!”

Following the larger man, Athos skidded to a stop at the sight which met his eyes. Afraid to talk he could only stare at Aramis’s huddled form cradling the body of d’Artagnan close to his chest. A keening sound met his ears as Athos fell to his knees fearing the boy was already gone from this earth.

Porthos wasn’t afraid to get close though and shoved his way in next to Aramis’s side. His shaky hand reached out for d’Artagnan’s neck and he breathed a sigh of relief at feeling a pulse beat beneath his fingertips. “The whelp’s alive, but he’s been shot in the side and needs tendin’!”

“Aramis,” Athos said quietly in a calm voice. Giving over to panic at a time like this would not do. “Hand d’Artagnan over to us so we can care for the boy.” Athos words didn’t seem to register with his friend. Receiving a blank stare for his efforts, Athos noted Aramis’s grip only tightened further on their youngest’s body. Imploring Porthos with just a flicker of his eyes, Athos watched his friend's resigned look as Porthos punched Aramis in the jaw, knocking the man out.

“Hated to do that, but d’Art will bleed to death if we don’t work fast,” Porthos growled to an unconscious Aramis. He was frustrated that he had to resort to such a crude action but time was of the essence or they could lose their pup.

So carefully laying Aramis down, both Athos and Porthos worked on saving d’Artagnan’s life. In the meantime Athos gave orders to Rene, Bertrand and Darien to take care of the rest of their wounded and dead as well as securing the bandits that were still alive.

“The lad's white as a sheet,” Athos’s voice shook slightly as he neatly stitched the wound up.

“You would be too if ya lost that much blood,” Porthos shook his head glancing over at the pile of bloody rags he threw off to the side that had been used to staunch the blood loss. “Wonder ifn’ we’ll get the whole story out of Aramis when we get back.”

“The man’s in shock,” Athos frowned. “Having d’Artagnan injured like this probably sent him over the edge.”

“Ya know what the captain will think?” Porthos grunted.

“That Aramis is a liability in the field,” Athos nodded. “One thing at a time, mon ami.” Scouting the area with sharp eyes, Athos finally spotted Rene again. Signaling the man back over, Athos had an important question. “How many of our brothers did we lose?”

Rene felt an overwhelming sadness fill him at the loss as he responded. “Five of our brothers fell, seven sustained injuries.”

Hanging his head down, Athos closed his eyes briefly and thanked God that d’Artagnan wasn’t among his fallen brothers. Lifting his head, Athos's blue eyes hardened. “Are we ready to depart?”

“Whenever you deem it prudent to move d’Artagnan we can leave.” Rene’s hazel eyes darkened in concern for his youngest brother.

“He’ll be well, Rene, be at ease.” Athos smiled gently. He knew that d’Artagnan and Rene were closest in age and a friendship had grown between the two of them. Athos actually had encouraged it, especially when he had found out that Rene had been raised just on the outskirts of Gascony. Both young men would discuss their childhoods whenever they got together, for Rene was only twenty four years of age compared to d’Artagnan’s nineteen years. “As soon as I get the lad settled on Roger we’ll head back to the garrison.”

After Rene left them, Athos mounted his horse and waited impatiently for Porthos to gather d’Artagnan in his arms. Carefully Porthos managed to maneuver the boy in front of Athos. Once Athos had a secure hold of d'Artagnan he let the child’s head rest against his chest. Though Athos's worried eyes moved to the still form of Aramis who was laying on the ground, his first concern was to their injured youngest.

“Don’t worry none about Aramis,” Porthos barked. “Bertrand will help me and I’ll get him back on Roulette.

“Then let’s leave with all haste.” Athos’s right arm anchored the boy to him while his left hand handled Roger’s reigns. His main worry for now was that they’d get back to the garrison before infection set in the child’s wound.

++++

*Musketeer garrison*

Treville was down in the courtyard waiting to greet his men. Bertrand and some of the other men were sent on ahead with what bandits were still alive. Bertrand then informed Treville of what befell the other soldiers. Feeling his blood boil in anger, Treville could not believe that it had happened again.” His deepest concern was how all of this would have effected Aramis the most. 

When finally casting his eyes upon the sight of Athos and Porthos riding into the garrison, Treville’s anxiety grew when he noticed his lieutenant held an injured d’Artagnan upright in his arms. Then his eyes swung toward Porthos who had his own arms wrapped around a slightly groggy Aramis. “Get the injured to the infirmary right away,” Treville ordered to the rest of his men who came riding in. Treville walked over to help hold d’Artagnan in place as Athos dismounted from Roger. Then between the two of them they got the boy down. Athos insisted on carrying the lad to the infirmary himself which didn’t come as a big surprise to Treville knowing how close the two of them were.

Seeing Porthos already on the ground, Treville studied Aramis’s dazed and confused face. Arching his brow, Treville stared at the larger Musketeer, a question on his lips. But seeing Porthos shake his head, Treville held his tongue for the moment.

++++

*Infirmary*

“Well, Aramis?” Treville sat down in a chair opposite Aramis’s position on the bed.

Resting with his back against the wall, Aramis closed his eyes as he told the captain and his friends what took place. “It was like Savoy all over again,” he murmured quietly. “All around me were injured or dead brothers. Their blood splattered all over the ground.”

“How did d’Art get hurt?” Porthos stood between the beds that contained both his friends, afraid to leave their side as if his will alone would heal them.

“I was dueling with one malandrin while d’Artagnan dealt with another. I was concentrating not becoming a shish-ka-bob when I heard a shot ring out and d’Artagnan’s cry of pain. When I glanced over the boy was laying on the ground, a pool of blood seeping from his side. I quickly dispatched my opponent and rushed over to d'Artagnan's side before the bandit fighting the lad thrust his sword in the child’s heart.” Aramis ran shaky hands through his wavy, brown hair. “After that I don’t recall much of anything.”

Concerned looks passed over Aramis’s head and that’s when Doctor Devereaux decided to step in.

“I only reserve my beds for injured soldiers,” Devereaux pinned Aramis with a kind look. “Which you are not one of.”

“So he can get outta here?” Porthos asked in surprised.

“Aramis just needs to rest and I suggest away from this depressing atmosphere.” Devereaux twisted his head around glancing over at Athos who was perched on d’Artagnan’s bed. “The boy though will be here for a longer period of time,” he smiled easily. “But the lad’s out of danger.”

“No infection?” Treville asked gruffly for he was sure his head would be sporting a few extra grey hairs after all of this.

“I used to think Aramis had a knack for the healing arts,” Devereaux mused. “But seeing Athos’s handiwork I could be out of a job,” he quipped, hearing Porthos bark of amused laughter fill the room and Athos’s loud snort. “Both Athos and Porthos got to d’Artagnan quickly so by the time they arrived back here I only had to deal with a minor infection, easily taken care of.”

“That’s a relief.” Treville was still filled with concern over Aramis and worried that the man would be able to continue his duties as normal.

As if reading the officer’s mind, Devereaux put Treville at ease. “There is nothing wrong with Aramis that his friend’s can’t cure, sir.”

“You’re correct,” Treville agreed, telling himself that Aramis’s brothers pulled him through the last traumatic experience and would do so again. “I’m just worried that the funerals for his fallen brothers may be too much for Aramis to handle at this time."

“I suggest that instead of attending in body that Aramis only go there in spirit,” Devereaux offered.

“How do you propose I keep the man away?” Treville asked dryly, keeping from rolling his eyes at what he thought was a stupid idea.

“I will tell him d’Artagnan needs him far more,” Devereaux grinned knowingly. “Aramis lived through something far worse than this and is still alive to tell the tale. He would be the excellent choice to help the boy come to grips with what has transpired."

“You have the makings of a devious mind, Doctor,” Treville held out his hand for the other to shake.

“It’s what happens when working with Musketeers who insist on getting wounded,” Devereaux laughed and Treville joined in.

The noise in the room finally roused d’Artagnan to wakefulness. “Mis...,” he licked his dry lips together. “Aramis.”

Instantly getting off the bed, Aramis knelt by the lad’s side. Placing one hand on d’Artagnan’s head and one on the boy’s chest, Aramis made sure d’Artagnan knew he was there for him. “I’m right here as are Athos and Porthos.” Aramis didn’t think Treville and Devereaux realized he had heard their earlier words but he took them to heart. “And I’m not going anywhere.”

The End


End file.
